


Archangel's Retreat

by RosaleenBan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caves, M/M, Runaway Gabriel, Team Free Love Big Bang 2016, Teem Free Will Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan
Summary: Gabriel left the bunker the same way he left heaven: silently, and with as few signs of his absence as possible.
In which Dean is a dick, Gabriel sulks, and nascent relationships become stronger by trial. 
A Sabriel/Destiel, Team Free Will fic. TFL pre-slash if you squint, but not required for reading. Gabe & Dean are one of my favorite antagonistic BroTPs.





	

 

Gabriel left the bunker the same way he left heaven: silently, and with as few signs of his absence as possible.

He knew it was coming. Had planned for it, even. There was no way he would be able to hold on to this small family he had found. To the nest they had built together through pain and battle, through the slow erosion of walls built on mistrust and past failures.

Bonds forged in holy fire were always more fragile than the stories would tell. Hadn’t Michael and Lucifer taught him that lesson, so many years ago?

The words were spoken so lightly, with so little thought. Such a Dean Winchester delivery.

“We have a _deus ex machina_ on our team. When are we going to start using him?”

He didn’t even know that Gabriel was in the room. Hadn’t thought, obviously, that Gabriel was doing everything he possibly could to keep his humans safe. Maybe he had forgotten that Gabriel was not what he once was, now that he was back from the dead. That Gabriel, though still an archangel, was still recovering from the Trials of death and rebirth. That ever since Castiel had found him, weak and alone, he was diminished.

When Sam had tried to remind him though –

_“Yeah, well. Don’t you think he’s holding out on us sometimes?”_

Sam had shot back with something snippy, and they started to fight.

_“Dean, how do you expect this to work if we don’t even try to trust each other?”_

_“Maybe it wasn’t meant to work like this, Sam!”_

And Gabriel thought they were _beyond_ that. That the trust they had built in recent months was so much stronger than the pettiness and mean-spiritedness that the brothers were displaying. He had thought that they trusted _him_ – trusted that he was being honest with them. That _‘I can’t’_ didn’t simply mean _‘I won’t.’_

That there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep them and Castiel safe, if it was within his power.

It was too much. It felt too much like Heaven, where love came at high prices, and shattered too easily. Where family didn’t mean anything like what it was supposed to.

So he dealt like it as he had dealt with Heaven. He ran.

Gabriel ran to his first shelter, where he had hidden from man and angel alike so long ago. Deep in the stone beneath the Rocky Mountains, there was a large cavern, as large as the entirety of the bunker. The dolomite walls did not have the melted earth look of most caves, but had been worn smooth by Gabriel millennia ago. Crystals of every color grew from the ceiling, still glowing bright with the grace he had imbued in them. Veins of gold and silver lined the walls, coaxed into the familiar patterns of Enochian runes. They protected the place: kept it strong and safe against even tectonic shifts, and away from the prying eyes of angels or humans.

It was all very angelic – created long before he had taken on any pagan powers. Before he had discovered he could be the Trickster in truth, instead of just the trickster of angels.

He had been so _young_ then. Back when he had thought, albeit faintly, that he would eventually go home. That Michael and Lucifer would actually join together to hunt him out and bring him back. Had he ever been as vulnerable as he remembered being then?

He thought about Dean and Sam in the kitchen, and how the words had stung. How the raised voices had reminded him –

_Huh._ Maybe he was just as vulnerable now as he had always been. The more things changed…

Gabriel had made this place long before electricity or even printing presses had been invented by humans, and had not been back here in a dozen or more centuries. There were no modern conveniences here – certainly no television or library like he had to entertain himself in the bunker when he was looking for an easy escape – though there were plenty of older luxuries, all preserved by the same symbols on the wall as those that kept this place safe. Soft plush carpets covered the floor, layered on top of each other haphazardly as Gabriel had acquired them. Cushions were everywhere, stuffed with the soft down of birds that no longer roamed this earth, creating a physical nest where Gabriel could comfortably curl up to lick his wounds.

That was exactly what he was going to do. Curl up, wallow for a day or a year or a decade – however long it took – and then get on with his life. Find some humans in need of just desserts. Or something.

 

…

 

It worked, too. For a day or two. He ignored any and all prayers studiously, knowing Sam or Dean would eventually try calling him back. Once or twice he felt the strong, desperate pull of an angel summoning spell, but archangels were not angels, and Gabriel in particular was a law unto himself. He ignored it slothfully, preferring instead to dwell on how he had just turned his back on something that was supposed to be a brand new start for him. A new life, with a new family.

Gabriel laid himself out over the most luxuriously soft of his rugs: a large, undyed throw made from the wool of a long-extinct bovid. He stretched his wings as far as he could within the confines of the cavern, and let himself float in his thoughts, ruminating on the fight he had overheard.

He was sulking, really. But he didn’t think anyone could blame him for it.

It was through the thick mire of his emotions that he felt Castiel’s flight less than a mile away, just outside of the mountain itself. He circled for a moment, like a hawk searching for a quarry it knew was just below it. Gabriel froze.

It was probably just coincidence. His young brother was just passing through the area as he flew here and there, on missions for the ever-more-needy Winchesters. He probably paused to make a call on his cell phone or something – or maybe to text, as the young angel had become increasingly fond of doing lately.  There was no way he could know that Gabriel had holed himself up here, hiding in the heart of this mountain chain. Not unless…

When Castiel had first found him, Gabriel had been weak, almost on the brink of death. He had set himself upon several Trials to win his life back, and eventually found himself back in Heaven, weak and disoriented. Metatron had found him like that, and had cast a spell on him, using the power of the angel tablet to siphon off archangelic grace. He escaped, but only barely. He wouldn’t have survived much longer if Castiel hadn’t found him.

Castiel had used the last of his stolen grace to stabilize Gabriel. By the time Gabriel realized what was happening, it was almost too late, but Gabriel had used his own grace to stabilize Castiel and heal his broken wings. No one but an archangel or God himself could have done it, and it required more of himself than Gabriel had given to a spell in a very long time.

If Castiel’s grace still held the remnants of that spell…

Pulling himself out of the memory, Gabriel furled his wings, pulling them close around him protectively and making them invisible to human eyes with a long-habituated thought.

Tentatively, and careful enough that he was certain Castiel wouldn’t be able to feel him, he stretched his grace to follow the other angel’s path.

Castiel flew up the craggy mountain chain, through the rest of Colorado and into Wyoming before slowly curving back east toward Kansas.

_Good,_ he thought sourly. He hadn’t been found. Castiel had flown right by him, and his mountain cocoon had done exactly as it was intended to: it kept him safely out of sight of his brothers, and anything or anyone else who may be searching for an archangel.

Still, he had to admit that he was a bit disappointed by how well it had worked. Not that he wanted to be found – not really. But it would have been nice, maybe, to be asked to come back to the bunker. Just so he could tell them no, of course – just so he could let them know how well and good they had messed it all up.

Or something like that.

He sighed, knowing exactly how lame he was, and not wanting to think any more about it. There was a man in Tulsa, he knew, who had been cheating on his wife with a string of younger women for years now. It would be distracting enough to head there, set him up with someone truly terrifying. A shapeshifter, maybe, who changed into something large and tentacled in the midst of her orgasm?

Maybe later, Gabriel decided, burrowing back down into his nest. For now, he’d stick to the comfort and safety of his cave.

 

…

 

Some time later, (one hour, two minutes and forty-three seconds, not that Gabriel was paying attention to such things), Gabriel felt the heat of Castiel’s grace again. The seraph wasn’t alone this time as he flew over the heart of the Rockies: to Gabriel’s eyes, the kinetic fervor of Sam’s soul shone almost as bright as Castiel’s blue-white grace.

And what was Sam doing out here? Were they actually searching for him?

He knew they must be, and successfully, when Castiel started to circle the mountains again. Gabriel watched, entranced, as the other angel’s circles slowed and honed in on his mountain. Finally, the younger angel landed, almost exactly on top of where Gabriel was hiding.

Gabriel could have listened to the conversation between Castiel in Sam if he wanted to, but he opted instead to concentrate on the robust storm of Sam’s soul. Usually, it radiated a brilliant mix of emotions, lighting up with happiness and humor when Gabriel was particularly near. But now it was eclipsed mainly by anxiety and protectiveness. Who exactly was causing those emotions was painfully clear.

_Huh._ They really were looking for him. And even found him.

_How about that._

Gabriel probably should have expected that, but he hadn’t. Not at all.

_They probably just want their superweapon back,_ Gabriel thought bitterly, closing his eyes to what he saw in Sam’s soul. He was not yet ready to let go of his anger.

What would they want him for otherwise, really? There was little he could provide that Castiel couldn’t, at least off the battlefield.

He watched curiously as Castiel flew off again, leaving Sam at the precipice of the mountain.

Sam settled down, then started to pray. “Gabriel, this isn’t funny.”

Now that Gabriel’s favorite human was so close, he couldn’t ignore him as he had for the past few days. Though he did try.

“Come on, Gabe,” Sam continued. “At least let us know why you’re suddenly ignoring us. I don’t even know why you left.”

And yeah, that was true. Gabriel was good at slipping away in the night. Confrontations or giving explanations? Not so much.

He could almost feel Sam’s bone-deep sigh. “I miss you,” the human confessed. “The bunker’s not the same without you.”

And that almost broke him. Gabriel would do almost anything for this gargantuan human, and right now he was about to fly himself right out of his sanctuary and onto the cliff where he was perched.

But then, suddenly, Castiel was back, Dean in tow. And Gabriel remembered exactly what his place was in their motley crew: a weapon to be used, and not family at all.

At least now he knew that all three of them were coming after him. _Good luck_ , he thought sulkily, eying the Enochian sigils on the walls. There was no way Castiel could force his way through them. Not without help.

“ **Gabriel**?”

Apparently Castiel wasn’t looking to force himself into Gabriel’s refuge. He was going to try to talk his way in instead.

“ **Brother, we know you’re near** ,” Castiel continued, his worried voice flowing over Gabriel in its natural, celestial form. “ **We must talk to you.** ”

_Yeah, right,_ Gabriel thought bitterly, though his resolve was starting to crumble.

Then the Winchesters started to pray, and Castiel, damn him, boosted their volume with his own angelic power.

“Gabriel.” Sam’s voice was as desperate as when he was praying alone. “Whatever’s wrong, we can work it out.”

“As long as you stop being a bitch about it and actually talk to us,” Dean chimed in, rather unhelpfully.

And no. Gabriel was an archangel for Dad’s sake. He was not going to just sit here as Dean insulted him.

He snapped, giving the older Winchester exactly what he deserved, and was mollified by Dean’s sudden swearing.

His mood _definitely_ softened when he heard Sam start to giggle, clearly trying to stifle his mirth.

“ **Gabriel, giving Dean a squirrel tail is not going to help to resolve the situation,** ” Castiel chided him.

He must have used both his earthly and angelic voices, because Sam chimed in with a silent prayer: _I’m pretty sure he deserved it though._

There was a reason Sam was his favorite.

_So clearly you can hear us,_ Sam continued, still silently. _What’s it going to take to get you to talk back? Seriously, the bunker is awful without you there. Those two just keep pretending nothing’s wrong. I swear I’m only one with a normal emotional range here. I_ miss _you._

Gabriel felt the conviction of those words, and the promise under them: Sam was wistfully imagining the bunker as it had been just a week ago: the four of them in the lounge Gabriel had set up for them when he had moved in. Sam stretched out on the couch with Gabriel curled on top of him like an overgrown cat. Dean and Cas both sitting on the smaller love seat, pretending not to be dancing around each other even though everyone knew exactly how either one of them felt. A rare respite from hunting, which had ended with Sam carrying Gabriel bodily back to his room, Gabriel’s legs wrapped firmly around Sam’s hips as he teased the young Winchester. Followed by an amazingly active night, where Sam had proved just how athletic he really was…

It was easy when it was just the two of them, really. It was Dean and Cas who made everything so damn complicated.

Gabriel made up his mind almost before he realized he was considering it. In a flash, he was up on the mountain precipice, grabbed Sam, and flew them down to his sanctuary. He knew how incredibly childish it was – to come out of sulking for just a moment to grab his treat, only to retreat again before Castiel or Dean could even realize he was there – but he didn’t care. After all, Sam had defended him to Dean. And Sam was _his_. He could at least have this.

“Gabriel?” Sam asked disoriented. Gabriel still had his arms snaked around Sam’s shoulders, grounding him for the trip.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Gabriel asked snarkily.

Sam’s lips quirked into a grin. He wasn’t even mad, he was just – _Sam._ After everything he had been through, sometimes the kid was still more of an optimist than Gabriel could fathom.  “Nope. Just surprised. Which I’m sure was your plan.”

Gabriel shrugged noncommittally. “Never sure what the plan is with you, kiddo,” he told him, though he was still feeling sullen enough that he didn’t punctuate it with his usual lusty wink.

He didn’t want to admit that he was happy to see that Sam’s smile was still fond when it was trained on him, but he was. Things were still that simple between the two of them.

“Where are we?” Sam asked, looking around the cavern in something like awe.

“Home,” Gabriel told him. “Or one of them. A very old one.”

“You made all of this?” Sam asked, pulling back from Gabriel’s embrace just enough to look at the gilded Enochian sigils on the wall in awe. Each one was two or three times Sam’s height, and they glistened in the uneven light of the crystals that lined the cavern ceiling. Gabriel wasn’t sure how much of it all Sam understood, but he knew that the Winchester was rather good at symbology, and had studied Enochian with Cas.

“Who else?” Gabriel asked.

“You hid from the other angels here,” Sam said, proving himself smarter and more adept than even Gabriel had given him credit for. “You used Enochian against them.”

“Got it in one,” Gabriel admitted.

Sam pulled away a bit more, but kept one hand on Gabriel’s arm, as if to physically root him in place, so he couldn’t run again.

“But Cas could feel you here,” Sam pointed out. “I could just about pinpoint you when he showed me how.”

And _that_ was interesting. Gabriel opened his mouth to inquire further, but he was interrupted by his prodigal younger brother.

“ **Gabriel, please let Dean and me come to wherever you and Sam are hiding.** ” Castiel’s voice sounded tired and tried. “ **And remove this tail from Dean. I’m not sure I can without hurting him.”**

“You really should let them down, too,” Sam pointed out. Because of course he did.

“Yeah, well,” Gabriel said nonchalantly. “I’m not really known for always doing what I should.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press him. “What’s this about, then? Why the Houdini act?”

Gabriel shrugged childishly.

Sam stared him down.

“I needed some space,” Gabriel admitted eventually. “I just – I needed to get out for a bit.”

“Why not tell us?” Sam asked.

“Why should I?” Gabriel countered without thinking.

He felt bad about it immediately. Sam’s face took on a pinched look, and Gabriel knew his words cut deep.

He sighed, then amended: “I was angry. You have a dick of a brother.”

“Something we have in common,” Sam said, trying for lighthearted but falling flat.

“Yeah, well, you don’t try to live with mine,” Gabriel reminded him.

“No, I guess not,” Sam agreed. “What did Dean do now?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” Gabriel told him, realizing exactly how true those words were. Now that Sam was here, and the two of them were talking, it seemed petty to be so upset.

“Apparently not that stupid, if it made you run like that,” Sam pointed out.

Gabriel pressed his lips together, then confessed, “I heard what he said, about me being your _Deus ex_ , then the two of you arguing. Mistaken for a weapon then watching the people I care about most tear each other apart? Felt kinda like home.”

Sam winced. “Dean didn’t think you were around when he said that.”

“I’m glad I was,” Gabriel admitted.

“Dean he doesn’t mean half the shit that comes out of his mouth,” Sam tried.

“Maybe he should learn to say what he actually means,” Gabriel groused.

Sam smirked. “You’re not wrong.”

Gabriel flung himself down onto one of his largest cushions – a giant, Sam-sized mammoth of a thing – dramatically. “I can’t live like this,” he said, mostly into the downy fluff.

Sam gently and lowered himself down onto the cushion. “What was that?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have angelic hearing here.”

Gabriel flipped over onto his back, arranging himself so his head was on Sam’s leg. “I can’t live like this,” he repeated.

“Like what?” Sam prodded, stroking Gabriel’s hair encouragingly. Because he was the healthiest one among them, and the best at talking things out, and _of course_ he could even get an archangel to talk about his feelings. Gabriel thought, not for the first time, that he just might be in love with the human for that.

“Without knowing where I stand,” Gabriel said plaintively. “Between Captain Sarcasm and Tall, Dark and Broody up there, I don’t even know if I’m welcome half the time”

It was clear by his expression that Sam was stifling a smile. “Gabriel? Are you really that sensitive? Or that dense?”

“Watch it, bucko,” Gabriel said, giving him a stern stare. Cause yeah, he liked the kid. Liked him a lot, in fact. But that was no reason to let him take too many liberties.

“I thought I made it pretty clear how welcome you were the other night,” Sam teased him, not the least bit cowed by the archangel.

Gabriel made a face. “We had _sex_ the other night,” he said sourly. “There’s nothing clear about sex.”

Sam scrunched up his features into what Dean called his bitchface. “It was a little bit more than sex,” he reminded the archangel.

“Yeah, I remember,” Gabriel told him with an impish wink, trying to sideline the conversation. “It was three and a half hours of amazing marathon sex.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and that look should not be that adorable on a man in his early thirties.

“I meant, I thought you knew it was about more than just sex,” Sam said. “You _live_ with us. I’m pretty sure casual sex with my demigod roommate is generally a bad idea. I do have some self-preservation instinct.”

“You Winchesters aren’t exactly known for your good ideas. Or for self-preservation,” Gabriel reminded him cheekily, silently mulling over Sam’s words.

“Clearly, we’re not the only ones,” Sam snarked back.

Gabriel glared up at Sam, but it lacked heat.

Sam sighed. “It’s not me that’s got you tied up in knots, is it?”

“I am not tied up in knots,” Gabriel told him petulantly.

 “Look, let’s get Dean and Cas down here,” Sam cajoled him. “We can’t fix things if you won’t even talk to them.”

“Who says I want to fix things?” Gabriel groused.

_“I_ want to fix things,” Sam told him. “I told you – it’s only been a few days, and I miss you. Dean and Cas miss you, too. Please?”

Gabriel wanted to say no, but Sam was giving him those puppy-dog eyes – the ones that made it impossible for Gabriel to deny him anything. He _harrumphed_ at it, but he snapped his fingers nonetheless.

The sigils on the wall changed ever so slightly, morphing to spell out Castiel’s name in golden Enochian calligraphy just below where he was standing.  It would call Castiel down here, and unlock the cavern to him. Gabriel made a mental note to undo the change later, when this all inevitably blew up in his face.

Another snap, and Dean’s squirrel tail was removed.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, concentrating on Sam’s fingers in his hair to distract him from the irritation of having his sanctuary invaded by another angel, even an invited angel.

When he came, Dean in tow, Castiel didn’t feel at all like an interloper, though. He felt as comfortable and safe as the protective symbols on the wall, or the soft pseudo-furniture he had collected so long ago. That confused Gabriel even more.

As a demigod, archangel, and all around smartass, Gabriel hated to be confused.

“Thank you for letting us down here, Gabriel,” Castiel said almost as soon as he landed.

Gabriel couldn’t help himself. He lifted his head to look at the newcomers.

Castiel was in his usual absolutely ludicrous outfit, complete with shapeless overcoat and backwards blue tie – all of which he would bet his wings the older Winchester brother had developed a silent, self-sacrificing fetish for. He still had one hand on Dean’s arm, steadying him. Either Dean had never learned to adjust to angel flight, or Cassie had never learned to fly properly after his wings had been restored, because Dean was looking vaguely ill.

“Hey guys, have a seat,” Sam invited them gently before Gabriel could say something sharp.

Castel gave Gabriel a quick, questioning look, but when Gabriel didn’t say anything he nodded. To Gabriel’s surprise, he and Dean did not choose new cushions for themselves, but instead crowded around Gabriel on the large one he was laid out on.

 Gabriel tried not to lean in toward their warmth, but it was a hard thing.

“What is this place?” Castiel asked, still looking around in awe. “Why does it feel so much like home?”

“More importantly, why are we here?” Dean asked impatiently, clearly not interested in letting the conversation get sidetracked.

“We’re here because none of us know how to communicate like adults,” Sam answered before Gabriel could. “And we’re going to fix that, because I am not about to let this all go to shit because of a miscommunication.”

And that was a bit much. If Dean didn’t like ‘chick flick moments,’ that emotion paled in comparison to the fury of Gabriel’s abhorrence of them.

Gabriel made to get up, but Sam held him in place with a gentle hand on his shoulder. As though the human had even a _chance_ at keeping him anywhere he didn’t want to be. He huffed, torn between his annoyance at the entire proceedings, and his desire to make things right. Annoyance won out, and he pushed through Sam’s hold roughly, standing to pace along the carpets. He let them watch him in silence for a while, wondering what he was about to do, as he ruminated on exactly what he wanted to say to them.

“I’m not a weapon,” Gabriel said at last, his voice clear and dangerous in the silence of the cave. “I am not your superweapon, and I will not always be there to clean up whatever mess you get yourselves into.” He pivoted, looked Dean square in the eye, and continued. “I’m not your _deus ex machina_ , and if I say I’m not up to a job, I mean it.”

He was gratified to see Dean look down, guilty. The Winchester knew exactly what he was talking about.

He continued. “Knowing that, do you still want me around? Is there any place for me if not a pet superpower?”

“Wait a minute,” Dean protested. “I know I run my mouth sometimes, and maybe I shouldn’t have suggested that, but no one ever said that was all you were. I was just frustrated that we were up against a wall.”

“You don’t _have_ to say it, Deano,” Gabriel snapped back. “Unlike most of my brothers, I know how to read between the lines.”

 “Yeah, well, you’re reading things that weren’t there,” Dean informed him hotly. “Who the fuck do you think I am, that I would just want to use you for what you can do?”

“A hunter?” Gabriel asked darkly. “A man so desperate to save the Earth from what he’s done to it, he’s sacrificed himself and his family a dozen times over? What _wouldn’t_ you do to lock Lucifer back into his cage; to put the Leviathans back into Purgatory; to make sure the Mark of Cain wouldn’t wreak havoc on the world again? Really?”

“Gabriel –” Castiel started to rise to defend Dean, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder to keep him where he was, then used his shoulder to steady himself as he rose from the couch and made his way to stand toe to toe with Gabriel himself.

“Listen,” Dean said, his voice firm. “You’re not wrong – there’s not a lot Sammy or I wouldn’t do for the job. But that’s not on the list. You’re not just a thing to use. Not you. Not Cas. Not Sammy.”

Gabriel raised one eyebrow suspiciously at being lumped into that group.

“You know what, I don’t care if you freakin believe me or not. Read my mind if you have to. That’s not why we keep you around,” Dean told him.

“Then why do you?” Gabriel asked, glaring up at him, not actually expecting a response.

“Because we like you here! What the fuck do you think?” Dean spat out. “You keep us balanced.” Dean pivoted away and started to pace in the same pattern Gabriel had originally taken. “Look, you’ve been back for what? Six months? And in that time, how many big fights have we gotten into? How many times have one or the other of us ran into danger, not knowing what we’re getting ourselves into? You barely had any mojo at first, and somehow you _still_ managed to get through to us, shame us or pester us until we changed our plans. We need you for that, if nothing else.”

“Though perhaps you could desist from distracting Dean by assisting him with pranks,” Castiel suggested from the sideline.

Gabriel’s mouth twitched into the beginnings of a grin.

Dean gave Gabe a put-upon look, as if to say, _See what I have to put up with when you’re not around?_

“Look, I’m sorry for what you overheard. I was frustrated, and being a dick. Just come back to the bunker.”

Sam got up and stood beside Gabriel, putting one hand on his shoulder and lowering his head so his mouth just brushed Gabe’s hair. “Please, come back? Dean and I are going to kill each other if you’re not there.”

“Really? Didn’t you get through three decades without me?” he asked, but the fight was out of him by now. Dean’s show of raw emotion was hard to argue with, especially when it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Sam smiled against his hair. “Maybe we don’t want to anymore,” he confessed.

That should have been enough for him, but he found himself looking up questioningly at his brother, who was still perched on the pillow. 

“You know you don’t have to ask me my thoughts, brother,” Castiel told him gently. “You gave me my wings back, taught me how to fly again. We’re bound by grace.”

“Not by choice, though,” Gabriel pointed out.

“I wouldn’t change it if I could,” Castiel told him. He paused, tilting his head. “When I found you, you had hardly any grace left at all. I was burning out. And I still gave you almost everything I had to heal you.”

“And once I was restored, I healed you,” Gabriel told him. “You had to have known I would do it.”

“I hoped,” Castiel admitted, “but I couldn’t know. If anything, I made my choice at that moment.”

Gabriel sighed. “So does that mean you want me around, too?”

Castiel looked disappointed in him. “Do you actually have to ask?”

Gabriel smiled at him warmly, then leaned into Sam’s chest at his right arm. He let his head fall forward onto Dean’s chest.  

This was good. This was where he wanted to be, with his favorite brother, his new lover, and someone who was actually turning into a partner in crime – a friend. It had been a long time since he had had anything resembling a family, but maybe he had one now.

One thing still nagged at him, though. “How did you find me?”

Castiel shrugged in a remarkably human gesture. “When I flew over you, it felt familiar. I wasn’t sure, though, so I went back for Sam to confirm it for me.”

“Sam?” Gabriel asked. “What could the Yeti do that you couldn’t?”

Castiel looked at him as though he were an idiot. He glanced at the Winchesters, as though wondering if he should speak in their presence, then continued, “Surely you recognize the bond between the two of you. It’s stronger even than the one we share.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, then looked at Sam, who seemed just as confused as he was.

“It’s like the one between myself and Dean,” Castiel told him frankly. “Though having consummated it, I believe yours is much stronger.”

“Whoa now, hold up,” Dean said, pulling back a bit and throwing a betrayed look at Cas. “What are you talking about, Cas? What bond?”

Gabriel looked at Dean, and the strong bond that tied him to Castiel – had tied them together since Dean had been saved from Hell. Then he turned his head into Sam’s chest, looking into the hunter. His expression morphed into something like awe. True enough, the same bright bond connected him to the younger hunter.

“Dean, I’ve told you we share a profound bond,” Castiel told the hunter in a placating tone. “Gabriel and I are bonded by grace, and you and Sam are bonded by blood. Especially given their compatibility, it seems natural that Gabriel and Sam would develop the same kind of connection, given the circumstances.”

Gabriel smiled as Dean started to protest in confusion.

They still had a hell of a lot to work through, the four of them. But he was pretty sure it was going to be worth it.

He wondered, somewhat distractedly, if dear old Dad had had anything to do with it. He kinda hoped he had.


End file.
